


New Traditions

by LoveHonorCookie



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Facials, M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 16:47:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17125061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveHonorCookie/pseuds/LoveHonorCookie
Summary: Hannibal and Will enjoy building new traditions together... this one turns DIRTY.





	New Traditions

**Author's Note:**

> This was intended to be sweet and fluffy for the #HannigramForTheHolidays challenge, but I couldn't get these boys to be cute, they wanted to do smut. I AM VERY NEW TO WRITING SMUT. I am not positive I am doing it right. This is... pretty filthy. So merry Christmas? Set very loosely in the #LecterGrahamUpdate 'verse (just search it on Twitter if you need context!)

Hannibal had never dreamed that he could live in so calmly contented a fashion.

 

But he had no complaint. How could he, when nearly raven curls were his to run his fingers through whenever he wanted? When skin like pink and cream porcelain was his to caress with affection whenever he desired? When a wiry yet graceful form was his to embrace whenever the impulse struck him?

 

It was Christmas Eve, and Hannibal was washing the breakfast dishes, as he gazed at the object of his musing from the kitchen window. The cabin they had settled in to ‘get blessed during the holidays’, a phrase his lovely husband had used which still made no sense to Hannibal, was very secluded by design, so there were no neighbors to spot wanted fugitive Will Graham, tromping along the snowy edge of the wood-lined property with his seven adored dogs.  

 

If Hannibal were honest with himself, he had envisioned their lives together as more… well, more murderous. And it’s not that that wasn’t an option. However, since finally, _finally_ , **FINALLY** being granted his heart’s desire and somehow, miraculously, securing Will Graham’s affection, he found he would much rather be engaged in ensuring the younger man’s happiness. The rush he got from taking care of his darling boy rivaled even their dragon slaying on the cliff of the bluff.

 

He would never have believed it. And yet it was so.

 

He watched as his husband waded through the snow, tiny white flakes clinging to his dark hair and eyelashes, his cheeks pink against the white of his skin and the ground. His wide blue eyes were crinkled by his even wider smile, as he chased down and shouted at his pack, acknowledged as its leader. He imagined how cold his husband’s skin would feel when he came back in, how he would smell clean and fresh against the scent of the warm, cozy cabin. A tree was set up in the living room, decorated at Will’s insistence, the smell of sugar and butter from cookies wafted throughout the rooms.

 

Yes, Hannibal was contented. More than contented. Hannibal was happy, happy in a way he’d only dreamed he could be, because only in his dreams was he able to share himself as wholly as he and Will did.

 

Hannibal set a kettle of water, intending to boil for tea when Will came back in, and began to look over his menu for Christmas- a holiday he’d always participated in qua his role as socialite in Baltimore, but held new meaning now that he and Will were building their memory palaces together. Before, the holidays were about aesthetics and pageantry, the building of a tableau. And while the aesthetics were still there, the melding of his design and Will’s needed no audience besides themselves to lend it meaning. With his impeccable taste, and Will’s unerring brilliance, every moment of his life was as beautiful as he could ever wish it to be. Together, at every turn, they were building new and glorious traditions together.

 

If there were more dogs than he’d imagined, more hot chocolate, more sweaters, it only added to the scene they were erecting. Their domesticity was all the more remarkable for their shared predatory natures.

 

Hannibal was pulled from his musings by the sound of a door opening, the smell of cold, clean air, many dogs and a scent that was singularly Will. As dozens of paws scattered across the kitchen, a strong arm enfolded him from behind, a cool cheek pressed against his own. He felt Will breathe him in, felt the man’s other arm raise above their heads as they nuzzled into one another.

 

“You’ll never believe what I found out in the woods, sweetheart.” Hannibal could hear the smile in Will’s voice, and looked up to see what his darling was dangling overhead.

 

Mistletoe.

 

“It’s tradition, Hannibal. It would be rude not to kiss me now,” Will cajoled as Hannibal turned in his embrace so the two men were face to face.

 

“Discourtesy is unspeakably ugly to me. We cannot have that,” Hannibal murmured as one hand carded through his husband’s curls, and the other came to rest at the brunette’s hip. Then he closed the gap between them and slotted his mouth against Will’s very kissable lips.

 

Every kiss with Will was just as thrilling as that first brush of lips, teeth and tongue as they fell over the cliff. Their mouths moved over one another’s sweetly, almost chastely, and Hannibal’s hunger for the younger man bloomed anew. His stomach coiled and his hand moved from Will’s hip to the small of his back. A small moan escaped Will, and he melted into Hannibal’s arms, mistletoe falling to the ground as the younger man’s arms closed around him.

 

Hunger quickly turned to heat as Hannibal’s arms tightened around the boyish yet lethal frame he adored so, their kiss turning from sweet and chaste to demanding and possessive. Hannibal’s tongue met Will’s, less of a battle for dominance and more an enjoyment of each other’s strength. Hannibal would claim Will- and then Will would claim him.

 

His perfect boy. His perfect equal.

 

As their kiss turned savage and wild, his glorious boy tugged at the buttons on his shirt, the buckle on his belt, strong hands finding and handling Hannibal’s flesh both roughly and reverently. Hannibal broke the kiss to throw his head back with the feel of it, and Will took advantage by trailing kisses down his throat and back up again. Will’s fingers found Hannibal’s nipples, tugging on them as his bite down gently on Hannibal’s ear. Hannibal growled in response, reclaiming his darling boy’s mouth. Hannibal’s hands found Will’s soft sweater and pulled it off, as Will made quick work of both his and Hannibal’s slacks. They stood, naked, clutching at and clinging to each other.

 

Previous incarnations of Hannibal would not have tolerated such a display, such a lack of decorum- clothes strewn across the kitchen floor, menu plans ignored, animals left to roam unattended through the abode.

 

But previous incarnations of Hannibal hadn’t had Will Graham, warm and lovely in their arms, working his way down their chests with his teeth and tongue. Such things could fall by the wayside when his beautiful boy was so eager and pleasing in his embrace.

 

Will brought himself to his knees before Hannibal, wide blue eyes looking up at him as his clever pink tongue licked at the tip of Hannibal’s cock like a cat licking at cream. Hannibal groaned at the sight of his darling boy kneeling in supplication, and Will grinned before taking the head of Hannibal’s cock into his mouth and sucking gently. His boy was such a wonder before him, beautiful hard cock jutting out over his strong thighs, hands bracing themselves against Hannibal legs as he worked to take more and more of Hannibal into his mouth, moving up and down slowly and determinedly. The discarded mistletoe lay just to the left of them, and Hannibal and never been so grateful for tradition in his life.

 

Hannibal’s hands came to rest in Will’s hair, becoming more aggressive, taking control of Will’s mouth, using it, _fucking_ it. His boy could take it.

 

Will moaned, pleased, one of his hands coming down to stroke himself. He looked both pornographic and sacred, pleasuring himself as he himself was a vessel for pleasure. He began to rut against his hand, and Hannibal ached to be inside him in every way, to use and fuck every inch of Will Graham, to cover him and mark him and claim him. There was nothing he loved more than seeing the former profiler covered in his marks and his seed, messy and thoroughly _Hannibal’s_.

 

“Do you like this, my darling boy?” Hannibal rasped as he continued to fuck into Will’s greedy mouth. Will nodded enthusiastically, gripping at the base of his cock, his balls, then stroking himself again, wriggling his ass as his throat took Hannibal’s cock.

 

“Your mouth is perfect. Perfect, Will. But I want to see you _defiled_ ,” Hannibal hissed, feeling his balls tighten as Will moaned loudly in response. “I want you to come, darling. I want you to spill all over yourself. Then I’m going to pull out, and then I’m going to come all over your beautiful face. Do you want that, darling? Do you want to be covered in both of us?”

 

Will’s moan was continuous now. His hand was moving furiously over his erection, ass undulating as he worked himself, still taking Hannibal’s mouth fucking. Hannibal was so close, so very close, but he wanted to watch Will fall over the edge first. There was nothing more beautiful to him than Will Graham coming undone.

 

“Be a good boy, and come for me Will.” He felt Will’s mouth choke around him, and the younger man stiffened as his orgasm came over him, thick ropes of come hitting his thighs and chest. And he looked so beautiful, so ruined and beautiful, that Hannibal quickly pulled his cock from Will’s swollen and red lips, hands tightening in dark curls as his painted his gorgeous boy with his seed. The bursts of come covered his pink cheeks, his full and abused lips, a bit clung to his dark and heavy lashes.

 

So very, very lovely. Marked and claimed. _Hannibal’s_.

 

Hannibal sunk to his knees as well, drawing his husband to him, kissing his lips and tasting himself on the younger man. Breathing heavily, the held each other as they came down, kissing lightly and slowly.

 

After he calmed, Hannibal stood up, and quickly retrieved a wet towel to tend to his darling with. Will laughed as the towel came to his face, and as he eyes opened he grinned mischievously.

 

“That was hardly traditional, Doctor Lecter.”

 

Hannibal laughed light in agreement, kissing Will’s lips again, warm and delighted and sated. “I do enjoy our new traditions.”

 

“Luckily,” Will mused, pushing his husband’s hair back into place, “There is a LOT of mistletoe out there.”

 


End file.
